The yellow leaves on the tree outside look as if they're shivering in the Istanbul breeze. It's pretty chilly out today and some are saying that we might receive our first snow this week. I hope so, because while I'm not the biggest fan of winter, I do like snow. It seems to renew everything; the whole city looks like a different place under a blanket of white -- a cleaner, fresher place.
I suppose my fascination with snow began as a child in Southern California. Because we had snow so rarely, it became a truly momentous event when it fell. We would be released from school even if we got just a few inches. Snowmen, snow forts, snow wars -- we couldn't get enough. If we were lucky my parents or a friend's would pack us all into the car and drive us up into the San Jacinto or San Bernardino mountains so we could go careening down the slopes on large plastic discs or any other object we could find that could send us hurtling down them.
I also have a rather bizarre affinity for eating snow, which also started in childhood. My parents would usually let me indulge myself back then, only warning me to look for the cleanest patches. They probably thought I would grow out of it, but no, still enjoy it till this day. Last time I was out hiking in the Sierra Nevada, I grabbed chunks of the fluffy whiteness and downed them with great glee (taking care to avoid the notorious brain freeze). You can be sure I'll be doing the same on the slopes of Uludağ this winter.
I'm a Southern California girl whose wanderlust emerged at age 3 on my first trip to the Philippines. If I'm not on a trip, you can be sure that I'm planning one. Life is a journey, challenging us to live in the only thing we have, this moment.